Project SHIT : Super Heroes In Training
by smarty-wanna-party
Summary: Project Super Heroes In Training, S.H.I.T for short, is Fury's latest plan for keeping evil at bay. It involves getting the Avengers to train six teenagers. How will they learn to cope with living and learning from the Avengers, as well as coping with all the dramas of being teenagers? (Young Avengers In Training re-write)
1. Prolouge

_Project S.H.I.T : Super Heroes In Training_

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_Prologue_

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"Could you repeat that for me?" He asked, reaching over the counter for a glass of amber liquid she presumed to be some form of alcohol. He cradled the glass in his hands before downing the drink,

"Fury is asking you to host six teenagers here for the time being. And, possibly, train them," She repeated, watching him place the crystal glass back onto the counter and fill it up again.

"I love you Nat-"

"Don't call me that,"

"I really do, but no. I don't owe Fury a thing," He finished, this time scrutinizing the alcohol before drinking it. They sat in silence for a bit, one wondering how he could make a machine that fermented fruit faster, and the other wondering how she would convince Tony that Fury's idea was a good one.

"One of them is a huge fan. You're his idol." She said smoothly, playing the ego card. He paused mid-drink, and she continued,

"His name is Zane. His intelligence has won him various awards, and he wants to be an engineer when he leaves school," She planted the seed carefully, hoping Stark would take the bait. And, he did.

"Tell me about the other 5," He said after a pause, now solely focusing on the task at hand instead of getting drunk, for which Natasha was grateful. That much alcohol could not possibly be good for him. She contemplated telling him an edited truth about said teens, or avoid the question altogether. In his alcohol ridden state, she doubted he would remember in five minutes. But then again, he had a pretty good memory, though she would never admit that out loud. His ego was big enough as it was.

"What is there to know? All you need to know is that they will be immensely grateful for your hospitality, and begin to realize how amazing you are once they start living here," Natasha said silkily. After all, it was what she was employed for. Stark's gaze grazed her shoulder, appearing to be deep in thought. After about a minute of silence, she cleared her throat,

"Stark?"

He blinked a few times, before shifting his gaze back to her,

"Huh?" She frowned as he waved her away with his free hand,

"Go ask Pepper, I'm about to make a scientific breakthrough in the field of vinification," He slurred, returning to staring intently at the shot-glass. Natasha could almost see his mind's gears spinning at a hundred miles an hour (Or, as fast as they could while doused in alcohol), so she sighed and stood up from her stool.

"See you around, Tony," She grabbed the cup of coffee (long empty) from the counter and left the room in search of his right-hand woman, Pepper.

"Jarvis, where is Pepper?" She asked the ceiling, heading towards the elevator.

"Pepper is currently in Ecuador," Came the British reply. She sighed, slunk down into a grandiose plush chair behind her and started playing absentmindedly with her empty coffee cup.

I could lie to Fury… and I could tell him that Stark said yes… Tony won't remember anything… Having made her decision, she sat up and whipped her StarkPhone out. She pressed 1 and waited patiently for him to pick up.  
"Yes sir...He's given the green light...I'll make preparations...Of course...Myself and Barton?... Yes sir...Goodbye sir…"

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_Disclaimer: Smarty does not own the Avengers, Marvel or Stan Lee. She doesn't think you can actually own a person anyway. She does, however, own her OC's and the plot line._

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**Hey guys!**

**Smarty here, back with a revised edition of Y.A.I.T (Young Avengers In Training). I gotta say, I am really excited for this as I feel my writing has improved extensively. I have planned this out thoroughly, unlike the original. For the readers who read the original, I must warn you that the OC's have changed a little. Their names remain the same but their personalities and backgrounds have been tweaked to my liking, which means drama. A lot of it. Pairings will most likely stay the same. I will update this once every 1-2 weeks, depending on my writing speed and other commitments. So please enjoy. And if you did, favourite, follow and review. Actually, even if you didn't like it that much following, favouriting and reviewing would be appreciated ;)**

**Smarty Out**

**P.S Normal chapters will be around 2000 words. This one is just short because it is the prologue.**


	2. Chapter 1 - Leila

_Project S.H.I.T: Super Heroes In Training_

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_Chapter 1 - Leila_

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I put the old paintbrush in between my teeth and grabbed the palette from its stool, stepping back to view my latest creation. It wasn't finished of course, but it was amazing, if I do say so myself. I don't know why those old guys like Pickass got all the attention when there was clearly an abundance of talent right under their noses. I took the paintbrush from out of my mouth and dipped it into the dark green, painstakingly brushing it onto the canvas. Every detail mattered. I put the paintbrush into the cup of cloudy water next to me and grabbed another one. This one was a great deal thinner than the first. I dipped it into the light green, carefully painting and blending it into the dark green. I put the paintbrush in my teeth again, taking a few steps back.

"Beautiful," I muttered but it came out as "Butefu," since I had the paintbrush in my mouth. I heard the footsteps of my butler outside my door and quickly put the paintbrush in the water and took my paint shirt off, carelessly throwing it onto the floor next to me. Before he had a chance to knock, I called out,

"What is it?"

"Miss Cooper, you-"

"Don't call me that," I interrupted. "That is my mother's name. I am not my mother," I growled whenever he called me that name. I didn't want anything to do with her, and lucky for me the feeling was mutual. I could hear him sigh loudly through the walls,

"Leila, if you do not hurry up you will find yourself late for school," I rolled my eyes. School, schmool.

"Whatever. I'm coming," I replied, tossing a sheet over my canvas. I left my brushes and paint out - I'd continue this afterwards. Before I could get myself dressed, I heard scratching at the door. I smiled to myself, opened it and was greeted by a cute wagging tail and big puppy dog eyes. I picked up Maxwell, my adorable little faun pug, and let him lick my face.

"Hello little one, how are we today?" I cooed, kissing him lightly on the top of his head. He sneezed in response.

"Awww, I love you too, but mommy has to go to school." I placed him back down on the floor and walked over to my closet, throwing the double doors open and walking inside.

One of the perks of having a fashion designer as a mom is the clothes.

"No, no, no way, nope, no, nada, no, yes!" I muttered as I passed each article of clothing, eventually settling on a pair of black skinny jeans and a baby pink peplum blouse. I walked over to the shoe section and picked out a pair of cream wedges. I quickly changed, putting some big silver hoops in my ears and stepped out of my walk-in-closet and into my bathroom. I fixed my hair into a messy top-knot, put on some red lipstick and then left my bedroom strewn with clothes. I wasn't a neat freak, and besides, the butler would do it for me. I grabbed my backpack from it's place near my door and left it dangling from my right shoulder. I made my way through the mansion, passing my mother and father's room and so many guest rooms that I had lost count. Eventually, I got out the front door where my chauffeur was waiting.

* * *

The drive to school wasn't a long one, which was good for me because I hated making small talk with the chauffeur. He was so damn boring! He just went on and on about his family and his other jobs that I would usually just wind down the window to drown out his droning.

He never took the hint.

When the car pulled up outside my school, I jumped out and slammed the door, not bothering to say goodbye to him. I walked up to the school gates where my posse was waiting.

"Hey girls," I smiled, throwing my hand around Hannah's neck.

"Hey Leila," Taylor replied, handing me a packet of Hubba Bubba. I took a piece and shoved in my mouth, chewing slowly as to prolong the sweet, sugary taste.

"Bad news. Liam is refusing to do our English homework for us," Hannah told us.

"Tell him that if he doesn't do it anymore, we will send him to social Siberia with those photos we took of his… secret hobby," I smiled maliciously, remembering back a couple of months when we took a photo of him picking his nose in the mall. Just plain gross.

"Good one," Taylor said, whipping out her phone, her thumbs going at a million miles an hour.

Not to brag, but at my school, I was queen. I controlled my peers more than the principal. I had more dirt on each of them than the government! And, even though I trusted Hannah and T, I had dirt on them too.

Not that they knew.

"Did you hear? Melanie is going out with your ex!" Hannah gushed.

"Which one?" I frowned.

"Jordan," Taylor answered. I relaxed a little bit. Jordan would dump her after a while- he was just trying to get me jealous. All my ex's wanted me. It was just the unspoken truth.

"It seemed pretty serious," Hannah added. I blew a giant bubble and popped it with one perfectly manicured fingernail,

"So what? I'm over Jordan- that's why I dumped him, remember?"

"I do," Taylor said. I swear that girl couldn't speak more than two words at a time. The shrill ringing of the bell marked the end of our conversation.

"Well, See ya 'round!" I waved goodbye to my friends and headed towards my first class, home ec.

* * *

I didn't care what the teacher said- I was an amazing cook.

Especially considering that I never cook. I mean, so what if it was a little burnt around the edges?

"It was black, Leila," Hannah stated bluntly. I frowned,

"But it tasted good, right?"

Taylor nodded, "Of course." I tossed my hair behind my shoulder and smiled sweetly.

"Thanks T, I know I'm a great cook," I leaned on my locker and opened my compact mirror, frowning.

"T, is that a zit?" I gasped, horrified. It was the size of Mount Everest, right in the middle of my left cheek!

"Umm…..Yes?" She said quietly. I could have burst into flames.

I. Don't. Get. Zits.

I ran from the lockers and towards the girls bathroom to get a closer look.

"Oh, no," I groaned, wondering whether I should pop it- ew- or leave it be. Concealer! I grinned, triumphant. I dug through my backpack, my fingers colliding with everything but my precious concealer. After five minutes of fruitless searching I groaned and looked back into the mirror.

I was never going to live this down.

Defeated, I shrugged my bag onto my shoulder and left the bathroom in search of my friends. A few minutes later, I passed Liam in the hallway. I stopped, and turned around,

"Oh Li-am!" I cried in a sing-song voice. I saw his figure tense up as he turned around to face moi.

"Yes, Leila?" I walked over to him and smiled sweetly,

"A little birdy told me that you didn't want to do my homework for me," I could feel the heat coming off the palms of his hands as tiny droplets formed on them.

Aww, the little guy was nervous.

"I've changed my mind, I-I'll do your homework for you," he mumbled nervously. I could feel his gaze shift to my left cheek.

That did it.

"Oh, I know, but for that little act of defiance, I might have to punish you," I practically cackled, turning on my iPhone and showing him the photos. I wasn't going to actually send them, probably, just seeing him beg in front of me was enough. His eyes opened wide like a deer-in-the-headlight's as he pleaded,

"P-P-please Leila, I'm s-s-sorry. It w-wont happen again," I turned off the phone and smirked,

"I thought so," I spun on my heels and headed to my next class.

Life was good.

* * *

After Italian I had maths. So, as usual, I wagged it and went to the girl's bathroom to continue to try and solve this… dilemma.

"No foundation, no blush, nothing. Absolutely nothing. Shit," I muttered, slamming my fist onto the marble counter top. Private school, what can I say? I looked back up to the mirror and saw a flash of black in the corner of it.

"Who's there!" I exclaimed, flipping my palms up, ready to attack the person who dared enter my space. Okay, it was a public bathroom, but I was here- that meant it was mine until I left. Everyone knew that. Those who didn't quickly learnt.

"Show yourself," I growled, checking each cubicle in the room. When I came to the last one, I smirked,

"Gotcha," I exclaimed as I kicked the door open. I saw nothing as it swung on its hinges. That just made me angrier.

"Hello, Leila Cooper," a feminine voice said from the entrance of the bathroom. I span around to face it.

It was a woman in a cat suit.

"Who are you and what do you want!?" I demanded, backing up as the figure took a few steps towards me.

"I am Agent Romanov of S.H.I.E.L.D, and I want you," she explained. That was really creepy, and the statement "I want you" probably didn't have the desired effect on me.

I didn't take orders. I gave them.

"S.H.I.E.L.D. As in, the government," I answered slowly, shoving my hands into my pockets. If they didn't know what I could do, then they didn't need to know. 'Sides, I had a feeling they already did.

"We work separately," she replied calmly, crossing her arms.

"What do you mean, you want me?" I stalled, hoping someone would come into the bathroom. I didn't want to die today. If I died, I wouldn't be able to win prom queen, or become an actress, or-or have kids, or see my mother die, or-or

Oh god, I'm going to die.

All these thoughts raced through my head as I studied the woman in front of me. She looked fit, and fast, and everything I was not.

Oh god, I'm going to die.

"Our organisation has decided to put together a group of young hero-"

"What, the Avengers aren't enough?" I interrupted, checking my surroundings. No way out, besides the entrance which this lady was standing in front of. I thought, for the third time today,

Oh god, I'm going to die. At the hands of a lady in a spandex suit.

"-es and heroines to replace the Avengers if the time should come," She finished, frowning at my outburst.

"Aaaand what if I say no?" I asked carefully, noticing the gun on her hip.

"We will tell your mother you are a mutant. I presume she doesn't know, given all the anti-mutant propaganda she has put forth," Romanoff said smoothly.

"I don't know what you're talking about," I lied.

"Your skills with fire are quite...entrancing," She replied without expression. I backed up a few more steps and felt myself collide with the wall. How did she know?!

"S.H.I.E.L.D knows everything," she claimed, answering the unspoken question hovering in the air.

"So, there's no way out of this," I re-iterated nervously.

"You'll like it, once you get used to the...life-style," She said, adding the last word as an afterthought. "You'll be briefed on everything in the plane," A plan appeared in my head. And, like always, it was a good one.

I nodded, "Okay, I'll do it. Where are we going?" I followed the lady out into the corridor, trailing about 6 feet behind her. She never answered my question. After about 2 minutes of walking, I stopped quietly and started backing up.

"Miss Cooper?" She questioned, turning her head so that she could see me out of the corner of her eye.

That did it.

Who the hell did she think she was? Ordering me to join some stupid team, blackmailing me when I didn't, calling me by my mother's name? I growled, willing flames from my hands. I felt the familiar heat rush from my heart to my arms, and voila- A raging inferno, in the palm of my hand.

"Back off lady," I took a few steps backwards, then started sprinting down the other end of the hallway. I heard her boots thump behind me, telling me she was in hot pursuit. I felt my chocolate curls coming out of my top-knot and cursed as they started to block my vision. I turned a corner and gestured upwards. A wall of orange flames grew from the floor and started to lick the ceiling within seconds. I stopped running and leaned over, panting like a dog. I thought that nothing could get through fire.

Apparently, tranquiliser darts could.

* * *

**Hey guys!**

**It has been exactly (that's a lie) one week since I last updated, so mini celebration for keeping to schedule!**

**Woo!**

**Also, if you had read the chapter (which I presume you did) you would have noticed that Leila is quite the bitch. But that is intentional. My other OC's will be alot nicer and better than Leila. Oh, and I know the painters name is Picasso, I made Leila intentionally think it was Pickass. :)**

**And, to answer a few questions:**

**a-hunting-consulting-avenger: Yes, the name is on purpose. I wanted to have an acronym, so I decided on S.H.I.T: Super Heroes In Training. I thought it was pretty clever ;)**

**kimbee: Yes, Willow will be aussie and I'm also trying to make her as close to the original Willow as possible. Willow's entrance shall be in chapter 5 :)**

**P.S Please check out the story I have co-written with Iron Zombie. It's called Secrets, Lies and Everything Spies and it would be really great if you checked it out.**

**Smarty Out**


	3. Chapter 2 - Zane

_Project S.H.I.T: Super Heroes In Training_

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_Chapter 2 - Zane_

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An electronic voice beeped annoyingly, keeping me from my precious beauty sleep.

"Zane, get up you lazy piece of-"

"Okay, 5 more minutes," I interrupted, smothering my face in the pillow and dragging the covers over my head.

"You promised you'd help with my ICT homework!" The voice demanded. I sighed,

"Sam, that homework will still be there in 5 minutes,"

I really needed to disable that damned intercom.

I heard heavy footsteps thud in front of my door. I barely had time to cringe before she threw open the door and shouted,

"Zane, it's due today!" She ripped the covers off, revealing my shivering frame. Damn, it was cold today.

"Why can't you do it?" I asked, hugging my knees to my chest in a desperate attempt for warmth.

"MOM!" She screamed.

"Yes?" A voice yelled back.

"ZANE WON'T HELP ME WITH MY HOMEWORK," She replied. There was a pause

"You really should be able to do it yourself, Sam," Mom replied.

Good ol' mom.

"YOU KNOW HE'S GOOD WITH COMPUTER SHIT!" She shouted, glaring at me. I poked my tongue out at her and closed my eyes.

"Leave your brother alone," She replied.

"Victory!" I mumbled, straining my eyes to check my alarm clock.

7:30, it read.

I yawned, propping myself upright and stretching my arms, hearing the satisfactory pop as I cracked my knuckles. I heard my sister huff and stomp out of the room. Sometimes, her temper was worse than the Hulk's. I rolled out of bed and raided my closet, picking out jeans, a t-shirt and a hoodie and of course, my plastic safety goggles. It was unusually cold for an autumn day, I realised. I grabbed my phone from my chest of drawers and put some music on, shoving the headphones into my ears. I threw on the clothes, and headed out to the kitchen,

"Zane, why don't you help your sister with your homework?" Mom asked dutifully. Before I could reply, she finished,

"Because you're too lazy, is that right?" I flashed a grin,  
"You know me so well," I pressed a button on the toaster and out popped a perfectly toasted slice of bread. I then wiggled onto a stool and asked mom to grab me the tub of Peanut Butter, which she did without looking. I absentmindedly used the knife next to me to spread it on, my gaze shifting to the window. I saw a heap of metal in a pile outside, and I stopped mid-chew,

"Mom, what is-"  
"Honey, don't chew with your mouth open," She scolded, returning to washing the dishes. I furiously chewed, quickly swallowing and finished what I was saying,

"What is that?"

Mom sighed, and turned to face me, "I found some metal lying around outside, so I cleaned it up," My jaw dropped down in shock,

"Mom, that was my project. The one I have been working on for weeks,"

She looked disappointed and started reciting the phrase she had said to me a hundred times, "Zane, I hope this is just a phase. You have the brains to be anything you want, and you chose to fiddle with metal. I want you to become a doctor. Do something good with your abilities," I threw the rest of the bread in the bin.

"Fiddle with metal. Fiddle. With metal. Do you have any idea what I was doing out there?!" I exclaimed, jumping up from my stool.

"And this Tony Stark thing as well. Is that why you want to play with metal? Because of him?" She replied, looking into my eyes that were the same shade of blue as hers. I slipped a hand into my pocket, pausing the AC/DC that was blaring from my StarkPhone.

"I have no idea what your talking about," I lied, cringing at how cliché I sounded, "I've wanted to be an engineer for ages mom. You could at least try to be supportive," I walked out of the kitchen and to the front door, picking up my backpack on the way. When I was almost out of the house, I screamed,

"Oh, and that metal lying around outside? It was a hoverboard track in progress," I slammed the door behind me, walking onto the front lawn where Michael was waiting for me. His expression was sympathetic,

"Fight with your mom again?"

"She dismantled the hoverboard track," I sighed, quickly running my fingers through my dirty blonde hair in an attempt to look decent.

"Aww man, that would have been so sick," He threw an arm around my shoulders and mentioned, "Did you remember to study for the science test today?"

"Nah, don't need to. That stuff's easy," I told him as we walked slowly to school. I caught him muttering something under his breath,

"'Scuse me?" I asked

"What's the symbol for mercury again?"

"HG," I replied immediately. He raised an eyebrow,

"What? I like reading non-fiction. You know that," I said sheepishly, looking down at the pavement below and busying myself with counting the cracks in it as we walked. A light breeze picked up, and the leaves on the footpath began to twirl around gracefully.

I stopped to kick them.

Michael noticed this and said,

"Something up?" I shook my head,

"Just bummed 'bout the track," I answered. He stopped walking and asked,

"No seriously, what's up?" I stopped too, and turned to face him,

"My mum doesn't get me, ya know? I live with a family of idiots. My dad can't do anything with technology but email, my mum can't even turn on the damn computer, and my sister is a C student! Do you know what their expectations are of me? Oh, son, you should be a neurosurgeon! Why don't you be a doctor?! A medical researcher?! Thing is, I don't want to be any of those things. I want to be an engineer," I rambled, half panting. I didn't add the part about the obsession with Tony Stark. I'm fairly sure he picked up on that a while ago.

"Sorry, I needed to get that out of my system," I said, letting him loop his arm around my shoulders.

"I'm always here to listen. You know that right?" He said sincerely, and I nodded my head. I didn't notice when his hand fell lower, down to my waist.

"Umm, Zane? I've got something to say to you too," I turned to face him,

"Yeah?"

"Uhhhh… nevermind," He said quickly, withdrawing his hand and walking now at a faster pace than before. I rolled my eyes but stayed silent. Mick had pulled this stunt on me a couple of times. He says he has something really important to tell me, but then he chickens out. I don't push him, though. He'll talk about it when he's ready.

Huh. I sound like a girl. We walked in awkward silence until we were at the school gates.

"No, wait Zane. What I wanted to say was-" He frowned and paused when he noticed Hayley coming towards us,

"Hey Zane! Hiya Michael!" She said, practically bouncing with energy. I smiled,

"Gotta go, those robots won't build themselves," I fisted Michael and went off with Hayley to the science lab.

"Let's add a chainsaw!" She said with an evil glint in her eye. I rolled my eyes,

"Ummmm…," I muttered, screwing the bolt into place.

"Poisonous gas?"

"You planning on killing me?"

"Okay then…. Acid cannon!"  
"Raddish," I started, calling her by her nick-name, "Maybe you should just stop with the ideas," There was a silence, filled only with various drills and squeaks. I liked it like that. Just me and the machine. I imagine this is what Stark feels like in his lab. Wow. What I would give to tinker in Stark's lab.

"So… has Michael…" She trailed off, wiggling her eyebrows knowingly. I set down the screwdriver and moved my safety goggles to their usual spot on the top of my head. My hair actually had a little dent there because of them. I liked that.

"Has Michael what?"

"You know…." She wiggled her eyebrows again. I sighed,

"Hayley,"

"Yes?" She said innocently. It was kind of weird. Hayley is the definition of guilty. I mean, I wouldn't put it past her to murder the science teacher if she failed.

And no, I'm not joking.

"I don't know. And stop with the eyebrow wiggling, it's creeping me out," I said, returning to building the robot in front of me. She groaned,

"Zane, you're so clueless. He has a crush on you!" I dropped the screwdriver I was holding in shock.

"What?" I muttered, not wanting to meet Hayley's eyes.

"Like I said, clueless," She said, grabbing her backpack and walking out of the room.

"You two need to have a talk!" She screamed before slamming the door. I wiped the sweat off my brow. Michael? But him and I were always checking out girls together, how come I never noticed?

Maybe he's bi? A little voice in my head said.

No, he can't be. This is Michael, best friend since Kindergarten, another voice said.

What has that got to do with anything? The first voice said.

I strode over to the other side of the lab and grabbed a phillip's head screwdriver, forgetting the one I dropped on the floor. How could this be happening? What would I say to him? Sorry Mick, but I like girls? I returned to the robot, shushing the voices in my head. If there is one thing that keeps me calm and happy, it's engineering. I think straight. In engineering, the world's a problem, just waiting to be solved. I was good at that. Problem solving. Relationship problems? Not so much. Ask me to fix a plane, and it's fine and dandy. Ask me to fix a relationship, and it's pretty much a goner. I decided that my course of action would be to avoid Michael until I could figure out a better course of action. I heard a knock at the door. I cringed, knowing who it would be. Mr Pickles, Head of Science. Did I forget to mention that students weren't allowed in the labs before school without permission?

"Sorry Mr P, I'll be right out," I called out to him, quickly tidying up the bench. When the door opened, it wasn't Mr P that walked in. It was a man in a skintight suit made out of some weird material.

Oh, and he had a bow strapped to his back.

"A bow, really? I can think of twenty weapons right now that would have more range and do more damage than a bow," I pointed out, instantly regretting it. Me and my big mouth always got me in trouble. And I didn't want to piss off this guy. He looked dangerous. He smirked,

"Not my bow," It was silent for a moment. What was up with all these awkward silences today? I decided to speak first,

"So… Can I help you?"

"I believe you can. I'm Agent Barton of S.H.I.E.L.D, and we've been monitoring your achievements for quite a while now," He said smoothly. I raised an eyebrow,

"S.H.I.E.L.D? What is that, the government?"

"We work separately," He told me, stepping closer. Not that I was afraid. He seemed like one of the good guys. He cocked his head to the workbench beside me,

"Nice robot,"

"Thank you. It's just a prototype, but when I'm done I should be able to feed homework into it here," I pointed to a slot at the top of the machine, "And it should come out, completed, here," I pointed at another slot in the machine. He didn't seem impressed. Well, he could be, but his poker face was good. Real good. "But you'd know anyway, because it won first place in a design competition. Near flawless, they said. They didn't bother telling me what the flaws were," I saw a ghost of a smile past his lips, but it was soon gone. Damn, he was more uptight than the British guards!

"So, what is it that you want again?" I asked.

"Our Director has come to the decision to make a team of extraordinary young heroes. And he wants you to be a part of it," He said, waiting for a reaction.

"What's in it for me?" I asked, leaning back on the workbench. Meh, I've been approached by a couple of people like him. If he tries to give me trouble, I've always got my trusty pepper spray in my back-pocket. I'm pretty good at aiming it actually. And it would be kind of funny to escape using pepper spray. Everybody would be like, Oh my gosh, Zane, how did you get away from a secret agent?! Oh, I used pepper spray.

"Besides selflessly doing it for the good of the world, a possible job at S.H.I.E.L.D in the future and a chance to work in the best labs in the world, you'll get to meet Tony Stark," He smirked when my jaw hit the ground. He knew just how to get to me.

"T-T-Tony Stark?" I spluttered in shock. He nodded,

"The one and only," I would say that I considered my options, but that would be a straight out lie. I mean, Tony Stark! It didn't even strike me that it was odd that they knew about my obses- idolisation of Tony Stark. Everyone I knew, knew it. I mean, who wouldn't be obses- who wouldn't like Tony Stark! He's freaking awesome! I grinned,

"You had me at Tony,"

* * *

**AN:  
Hey guys!**

**Still in the time limit :) Just thought I should quickly mention that I fully support Chane, and it will be happening in this story. For those of you who don't know what that is, you'll find out soon enough ;) Thankyou to all those who reviewed/favourited/followed, you made my week :)**

**Smarty Out**


	4. Chapter 3 - Ryan

_Project S.H.I.T : Super Heroes In Training_

* * *

_Chapter 3 - Ryan_

* * *

"Would you like some fries with that?" I drawled in a monotone voice.

_Erm yes, I'd like an extra extra large fries._

Small fries it is.

_And another cheeseburger._

Fatty.

"Anything else?"

_That's all_

"Please make your way to the next window," I pushed the colourful buttons on the computer in front of me. 3 cheeseburgers, 1 large fries and 3 large cokes. No wonder America was so fat. The car that rolled up next to me proved just that. A large - no - massive woman, with so much fat it could feed a starving nation smiled at me. She smelled of grease and mothballs. I resisted the urge to shudder.

"That will be 10.90," I said, leaning over to receive the change.

"Whaaa? 10.90! But yesterday it was 6.00!" She practically screamed. I sighed,

"Miss, did you order the same thing?"

She shook her head, "No,"

"Then maybe that's why. While you're at it, you probably should lighten up on the McDonalds. I mean, look at yourself," I snickered, "I bet you don't need the internet. You're already worldwide," She took a moment to process this information before she growled,

"Screw you sonny, I can do whatever I want,"

"Except exercise apparently. Now, that'll be 10.90," I flashed a fake smile at her. She reluctantly handed me the change while muttering something about the youth of today. I put it into the machine,

"Head on to the next window to get your food, Whale," I told her, waving as she drove past.

I hated my job.

I jumped a little when the door next to me swung open,

"Ryan, can I have a word with you?" The boss asked. I smiled innocently,

"Whatever about?"

* * *

Fired.

They had the nerve to fire me.

I hated that place anyway. It smelled like grease and oil and fat, and more than once I had caught a rat sneaking around the "kitchen". It wasn't a kitchen. It was the place they unfroze all their food shit. And the pay was shit. I sighed, gripping the brakes a little tighter as I cycled down a steep hill. As the wind whipped my hair, I scowled, remembering where I was cycling to.

Home.

No. That would imply that I liked it there. I am cycling to my house.

Much better.

In my house, there lives 5 people. My mom, my step-dad, and two of my step-dad's little brats.

Sounds like a regular ole Cinderella story, hey?

Only thing is that they all loved me.

I hated them.

I hated everything about my family. I hated my mom's lies, I hated my step sisters' perfectness and I hated my step-dads niceness. If I was out of the picture, their family would be perfect. I slowed down as I passed the familiar perfectly cut hedge before eventually stopping in front of the iron gate. I shoved it open while it creaked and groaned as if it were a hundred years old and then cycled down the long driveway.

* * *

"Ryan! How was work?" She beamed, showing off her perfectly white teeth while her hands rested lightly on her crossed legs. Noticing that the entire family was sitting down in the room and waiting for my response I scowled,

"I was fired," I walked away and made a beeline for my bedroom, only to be stopped by Tweedle-Dum and Tweedle-Dumber who somehow managed to get in front of me.

"Hey Ryan!" They chorused with the same smile as my mom. I ignored them, like I did every time they greeted me. They really can't take a hint. They are 13, I think. I should be able to move out by the time they're 15. Hopefully. I slammed the door of my bedroom and slid to the ground, tossing my red and yellow cap aside. Stupid McDonalds. A glint in the corner of the room caught my eye and I smirked. Why not make life hard for the oh so perfect family? I slid onto the stool and grabbed the silver drumsticks.

"A one, a two, a one two three four!" I screamed, bashing the drums with all I had. Mom had gotten them as a birthday present for me last year.

Her mistake.

"Ryan, please turn it down a notch!" Darren called out from the kitchen, but I just drowned him out with more banging. It was a wonder that I hadn't punched a hole in the kit actually. I poured all my anger into the drums and soon it was too loud to think.

Good. That meant it was too loud for others to think.

Mom burst into the room with a furious expression,

"Ryan!" She spluttered, clutching her cigarette so tightly that ashes flaked onto the floor. I smirked,

"Yeah?"

"I have told you time and time again not to play so loudly! Next time, you wont get a warning!" She exclaimed, puffing a jet of grey smoke into the room. It took all I had not to cough and grimace at the sight. Smoking was a disgusting habit, destined to shorten your lifespan by years. I made a promise to myself a while ago that I would never smoke anything. Ever.

"Why did you buy them then?" I asked, letting the drumsticks fall from my hands onto the soft carpet. Her facial features softened,

"Because I wanted to make you happy," She said quietly. The room was silent for a moment, before I mumbled,

"Get out," She sighed, and took a step forward,

"Ryan-"

"Get out," I said again, this time with more force. Mom turned around slowly and walked out of the room, shutting the door along the way. I slouched on the stool and looked up to the ceiling. You could just make out the dots of glue used to hold the glow-in-the-dark stars long since removed.

_"Daddy, they're so bright!" I said eagerly as he closed the shades on the window. Even though it was dark, I could still make out the big smile on his face,_

_"Yes they are," He sat me on his lap and we gazed up at the ceiling, marvelling at the soft green glow of the stars above us._

_"Has mommy seen them yet?" I asked, shifting my gaze to his face. He seemed to tense up a bit before saying,_

_"Not yet. She hasn't been home the past few days, remember?" He was right. Where did mommy go for work? She said she would be back soon. I wondered where she was. I hope she brings me a soo-ven-ear. That's what mommy calls them. There was a moment of silence, before I broke it by whispering,_

_"When is she coming back?"_

_"I don't know," He said sincerely, clutching me tighter. He looked into my emerald eyes, before saying_

_"I love you," I yawned, and curled up in his arms._

_"I love you too dad,"_

I opened my eyes and wished that dad was here. I missed him. Before the accident, we were really close. I was oblivious to the wrong-doings of my mom. We were a happy family. Well, at least I thought we were.

I was just a fly caught in her web of lies.

I picked up the drumsticks from the floor and twirled them in my hands, before deciding to visit a friend. I dropped the drumsticks again and walked through the house, avoiding the gazes of my family (which was actually quite hard, considering the tiny size of our house) until I reached the garden. Our garden was quite big, if you look at the size our house. Our house was a three bedroom, one bathroom "cottage" resting on 5 acres. Dad always wanted to expand the house. His argument was that we had the room, so why not? Mom was always concerned about the money. I wolf-whistled to the acreage and the bark that followed brought a smile to my lips. I heard the rustling of leaf litter before I saw him.

"Hey Smoky! Come here boy!" I exclaimed, squatting and clapping my hands in front of me. He barked again and proceeded to tackle me to the ground and give my face a bath with his tongue. My left hand scrambled around the dirt until I found what I was looking for. I smiled and shouted,

"Fetch!" I threw the stick as far as I could with a ton of dog on me and watched as the black Labrador bounded through the field to find the oh-so precious stick. Smoky was my best friend. He had always been, ever since I found him wandering on the side of the road as a puppy. Dad had convinced us (and by us, I mean mom. I was all on board from the moment I saw him) to take him home. Mom and the step-family hated him, just because he smelled a little. I was the only one who cared for him, but I didn't mind. It meant more one on one time. I heard the crunch of the leaves in front of me before the jet-black dog bounded from behind a tree to me and dropped the stick at my feet, sat down and wagged his tail at a hundred miles an hour. That was Smoky for you. You could always hear him before you saw him because wasn't exactly the most graceful of dogs. I squatted down and patted him on the head,

"Good boy Smoky. Now, fetch!" I grabbed the stick and threw it again. He barked before running off to search for it again.

Now that was undying loyalty.

I then noticed how quiet it was down here near the forest. If I listened hard enough, I could just hear a conversation back up at the house. I strained my ears to listen, but I all I could hear was just hear a slur of words...

Ryan...S.H.I.E.L.D...plans...hero…

What the hell was S.H.I.E.L.D? And why were they talking about me? Actually, who was they? Because I was paying so much attention to the strange conversation, Smoky caught me by surprise and leaped onto me. I thumped onto the ground with the dog on top of me and judging by his tail, he was quite proud of his achievement. I swore I could almost see a smirk on the dog.

Gotta love Smoky.

I pushed the mutt off me and sneaked back up to the house, crouching low behind it. I peeked around the corner and saw an unfamiliar woman dressed all in black. I pulled my head back quickly, but I think she saw me. In any case, she began to talk louder than before,

"So you- as his guardian- completely agree to this?" She said nonchalantly. I heard my mothers voice saying,

"Yes, but only if he does," I grimaced. This couldn't end well. I decided that now was the time to show myself,

"Agree to what?" I demanded, walking out from around the corner. I felt Smoky's soft fur under my right hand as he stood beside me, giving me support and a confidence boost. The woman looked into my eyes and said,

"Good afternoon. I'm Agent Romanov, of S.H.I.E.L.D," She paused to let the statement sink in. I didn't know what S.H.I.E.L.D meant, or why she referred to herself as "Agent". I mean, who does that? "I'm here to invite you to join S.H.I.E.L.D's 'Young Heroes' program. You've been spe-" I cut her off by raising my left hand,

"Oh cut the crap. What does it entitle, and why the hell should I do it?!" Her eyes narrowed. She probably wasn't used to being bossed around by a 16 year old. Mom gave me a warning look.

What, was she intimidated by Ms catsuit?

"It entitles training with the avengers and you should do it because you have to," She said through gritted teeth. I snorted and crossed my arms,

"I don't have to do anything," She smirked, pulled out a black gun and aimed,

"You sure about that?"

* * *

**AN:**

**Hey everyone!**

**Did that chapter move too fast? I dunno, it just seems a little rushed to me. But, you're always free to leave your opinions... in the form of a review ;) Anyways, follow, favourite, whatever you need to do to make yourself feel good ;) Also, what do you think of Ryan? And what's with his family? **

**See y'all later!**

**Smarty Out**


	5. Chapter 4 - Willow

_Project S.H.I.T: Super Heroes In Training_

* * *

_Chapter 4: Willow_

* * *

Attempt Numero 18, I thought to myself as I clutched the timetable tightly in my right hand. It should come any moment now. I strained my ears to hear the shrill whistle of the train. I looked to my left and saw the bright twin headlights that marked my release from this world. I jumped onto the tracks and waited for the inevitable. The train creaked and groaned as the driver tried to stop it. Time slowed down. The train came a few feet closer with every passing second and I squeezed my eyes shut, bracing for impact. But, right before it hit me…

My powers kicked in.

I was flung over the train and landed a few hundred feet behind it. The train rushed away, leaving me on the verge of crying. Apparently, if you commit suicide, you won't get into heaven. Well, I was never going to get into heaven anyway. Not after what I did.

Makes me wonder why I'm still here.

I hugged my knees to my chest and let my lavender hair fall in front of my face like a curtain as I sobbed heavily. All I did could do was harm.

After a few minutes of wallowing in self-pity, I stood up and dusted myself off, climbing over the barb wire fence that separated the train tracks from the rest of the world. I gasped as the jagged metal cut through the palms of my hands so as soon as I had landed on the other side, I grabbed some leaves from a nearby tree and bound my hands with them to try and stop the bleeding. I opened my backpack and started laying everything out in front of me:

Wallet- Check. Jumper- Check. Rope- Check. Torch- Check. Knife- Check. Blanket- Check. Water- Check. Tarp- Check.

Purpose in life- Unchecked.

I sighed, brushing a strand of straight hair behind my ear, looking up at the sky to check the time. I needed to set up camp for the night- I didn't plan on dying from exhaustion. I pulled the tarp out from the bag and hung it from a branch, letting it fall to create a triangular prism-shaped shelter for the night. I cleared the little patch of dirt from twigs and other debris and laid the blanket down. I laid down on my back and clasped my hands together on my stomach. Just as I thought my luck couldn't get any worse, it started to pour. I groaned, willing it to go away.

Yeah, like it would listen to me.

I curled up in a tight fetal position, using my worn out backpack as a pillow, and laid there shivering, hoping sleep would come quickly. And, I hoped that some of the local wildlife wouldn't eat me. Actually, maybe that wouldn't be such a bad way to go. Lucky for me, sleep came very quickly.

* * *

My eyes fluttered open as I quickly checked my surroundings. All I could hear were some leaves rustling, all I could see was the top of the tarp and all I could smell was some smoke.

_SMOKE!?_

I scrambled out of the tent/shelter and looked around. There was a plume of smoke and a wave of fire coming near me. I quickly dismantled the tarp, gathering everything up and shoving it into my backpack. By the time I was done, I could see the orange glow of the fire through the trees. Why do these things happen to me?! Bingo! I thought, throwing the backpack down beside me.

Attempt number 19.

I walked cautiously through the dense forest, my eyes guiding me to the fire. With every step I took, it got hotter and hotter. Soon, I was a mere 4 foot away from the inferno. The searing heat, mixed with the copious amounts of smoke made me want to cough like crazy. I closed my eyes, and stepped forward into the flames.

* * *

_I shoved the uncomfortable headphones onto my head and put the end of them into the socket._

_"Seriously, why do these things have to be so damn tiny?" I muttered to my little sister,_

_"Aeroplanes have to provide disposable earphones for loads of people on every flight. They can't afford to be comfortable," She guessed, fiddling with the shade next to her._

_"Don't open it, the glare will make it hard to see the screen," I said to her, squinting my eyes because of the sudden bright light. I could just see the clouds from where I was sitting, and they were absolutely stunning. But, I had movies to watch._

_"Stop complaining Will-"_

_"Grace," I corrected, hoping no-one around us heard. She rolled her eyes,_

_"Stop complaining, Grace, it's because of you that we are here in the first place," She slammed the shade down, oblivious to the hurt expression the comment had brought onto my face. I looked to the screen in front of me_

_"Oooh, Zombie Slasher 4 is on here," I grinned, nudging Carrie with my right arm. Her eyes grew to the size of dinner plates,_

_"Are you serious!? That's only just come out! I didn't know they had it on here!" She exclaimed, peering over to my screen. Noticing the expression on my face, she said,_

_"No. Just...no. You get scared watching the Ghost Whisperer. How the hell will you cope with the scariest movie of this year?"_

_I frowned, "Is that a challenge?"_

_She grinned evilly, "Dearest sister, 'tis a dare," She rubbed the palms of her hands together and started doing the stereo-typical evil villain laugh. An old guy behind us stood up and shushed her, causing me to giggle quietly._

_"Oh, it is on,"_

* * *

_Beep….Beep….Beep…._

I gasped, immediately registering the immense pain that filled my entire body. I couldn't pin-point an exact location- it seemed to be everywhere. I winced as I opened my eyes slowly. I was surrounded by… white. And wherever I was smelled unnaturally clean. Including me. How long has it been since I have had a proper bath? The mattress underneath me felt hard. I was on a mattress? Geez, I haven't sleep on a mattress in a month. I turned my head to the source of the beeping, and found that I was hooked up to a heart rate monitor machine thing. I groaned, checking my surroundings. I was in a room with a bunch of complicated equipment, covered in bandages and dying from pain.

Damn, I could use some morphine.

I heard the dull thud of footsteps become louder and louder until I thought they were outside my door. I was startled a little when the handle became to rattle, but the door swung open and a young doctor wearing a stark-white lab coat walked in holding a clipboard.

How un-cliché.

He flashed an one hundred watt smile and said in a cheerful tone,

"Ahh, nice to see you're awake. We couldn't find you on file, would you like to tell me your name?"

No, I thought, but I wasn't going to say that to the guy. He looked so small and cute, like a lost puppy. I was guessing all the new doctors looked like that - I mean, he only looked a few years older than me. I could never tell doctors apart. All in white with perfect hair and perfect teeth. And unless one looked like they had fell asleep in a tanning bed, they all looked the same.

"Natalee. Natalee Paul. Why am I here?" I asked politely. He smiled again,

"Are you Australian Natalee? You sound like you have an accent. Anyways, you're here because some fire-fighters dragged you in here after one of the biggest blazes in Idaho. They said you were very lucky to be alive,"

I resisted the urge to groan. Lucky, right.

"I assume you want to know the damage done?" He offered. I nodded.

"Lets see," he muttered, looking down at his - you guessed it - white clipboard, "You have second degree burns covering 30% of your body, and third degree burns covering about 10%. Do you remember what happened?"

I winced. Second degree burns? Damn, that'll take a while to heal. No wonder I hurt so much. Then I realised he asked me a question.

"No," I lied. I figured that it would help me out, you know, playing innocent, but judging by the look on his face he knew I was lying.

"Natalee, I'm here to help you. Do you remember what happened?" He said in that sickly sweet voice of his.

"Yeah, I was interrogated by an annoyin' "doctor" fresh outta uni. Could ya stop with the questions now?" I snapped. He frowned,

"Do you have any relatives we could contact?"

I paused. Shit, what was I going to say?

"No," I told him, "Anyways, can I go now? I have some umm… stuff to do,"

Wow. You really have this lying thing down pact, don't you?

He glanced to his right, where a man was waiting patiently outside the ward. He looked really muscly and he had brown hair, brown eyes, tanned skin…

And a bow strapped to his back.

The doctor nodded curtly to the he-Katniss and he walked in smirking,

"Natalee Paul?" He asked. I nodded cautiously. Something about this guy screamed Danger! Get out while you still can! Believe me, I wanted to. I mean, who the hell uses a bow now-a-days? That's just weird and medieval. I mean, yeah, Katniss used one, but that was a completely different scenario. This is the real world. What use does a bow have in the real world? He looked sharply at the doctor, who ran out of the room faster than a cheetah.

"I'm Agent Barton of S.H.I.E.L.D," He started. Alarm bells went off in my head. The government!?

I was so screwed.

"Could I have your real name?" I frowned,

"Something tells me you already know it," I didn't even bother to try lying. This guy… Barton… would probably know if I was anyway.

He smiled, "Carrie Kent? Grace Digger?" I froze up as he recited the list of names I had used as aliases. How did he know?

"Or is it… Willow Hawthorne?" I paused,

"I haven't gone by that name in a long time," I told him, my eyes darting around the room, searching for an exit. A door, a window and an airvent. In my current condition, my best bet would be the window- it looked like we were only two stories up. That would mean I would have to get past Merida here, and I didn't think that would happen.

"Why are you here?" I asked.

"You have powers, Willow. Powers people like me and my superiors are interested in,"

Okay. I needed to get out now. What would they do to me if I went with them? Do they know about the incidents? Would they use me as a guinea pig?

Or worse?

My heart started racing.

"Get out. Now," I replied, recognising the symptoms all too well. Sweaty palms, increased heart rate, hot/cold flushes, labored breathing... He frowned,

"Willow, we want just want to-,"

"No, you don't understand. Please, ge-" I paused midsentence when I looked out the window. The trees outside were bent at an almost ninety degree angle, with debris flying everywhere.

Then, I had a panic attack.

I ripped cords from my body and jumped out of bed, glancing at my reflection in window. I was in a horrible, ugly hospital gown with bandages covering my torso and my left arm. God, I looked like an incomplete mummy. I strode over to the door, wincing with every step. I was surprised Barton didn't stop me, actually. As I rattled the doorknob I realised it was locked.

Oh my god, I'm trapped.

Little fact about me- I'm claustrophobic. Extremely. Claustrophobic. I felt Barton grab me by my shoulders,

"Willow, calm down! Turn off the wind!"

Easier said than done. I glanced at the window, where a huge tornado was coming our way. The trees that were bent at a ninety degree angle weren't even there anymore. I heard the shattering of glass and felt some of the pieces pierce my skin. I tried to do what Katniss said. I tried to calm down. Deep breaths. In and out. I shoved Barton off and continued to rattle the door knob with no results, "Unlock the door!" I screamed through the howling of the wind. I was trapped. My skin ran red with blood from the hundreds of little pieces of glass now embedded in it. Out of the corner of my eye I saw Barton take something out of his pocket. But when I realised what it was, I was too late. Besides, he probably saved everyone in the hospital with that little devil.

It was a tranquilizer dart.

* * *

**AN:**

**Good Afternoon/Morning!**

**Two weeks since the last chapter, so this technically isn't late :D I would have gotten it out sooner, but I was planning on posting Chloe's and I haven't finished it, so... yeah.**

**Happy Friday everyone! Anyways, this (obviously) i Willow's chapter and as you probably would have noticed, she's a little different from the old Willow. Just a bit. Hopefully I'll be able to keep her personality the same because it was pretty fun to write and read (hopefully). Only two more chapters until they are all introduced to eachother! Yay :)**

**Smarty Out**


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